


Six Days of Laying

by scientits (donedirection)



Series: Twelve Days of Christmas [6]
Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: Christmas Smut, Crossdressing, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 05:18:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2839433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/donedirection/pseuds/scientits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>December 2015 - On his last day with Nick, Harry feels like a festive outfit might be in order.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Six Days of Laying

Harry has six – count them _six_ – uncommitted days before he has to go home for the holidays. And he’s firmly decided that he’s spending them in Primrose Hill.

It’s been another year of being away from Nick more often than not - which he’s used to by now. Nick would laugh and say that it seems like a reasonable price to pay for being an international popstar. But no matter how long they keep it up, non-exclusive boyfriends is a difficult relationship to have.

Sitting awake until half three in the morning just to hear Nick’s laugh travel halfway around the world and through his computer speakers doesn’t get easier. Falling asleep without Nick pressed warm against his back doesn’t get easier. And waking up in an empty bed – or waking up in a bed with someone else – doesn’t get easier. If anything, it’s been harder this year than in the past. But now Harry is faced with six days – one hundred and forty-four hours – of nearly uninterrupted time with Nick. 

On the first day, Harry falls asleep on the couch watching _The Simpsons_ Christmas special with Nick’s fingers tangled in his hair, and he stays asleep for eighteen hours.

On the second day, Harry cooks breakfast, purposely dropping bits of egg on the floor just to hear the click-clack of Pig’s nails on the floor as she runs to retrieve them. In the afternoon, he rides Nick in his bed, grinding his hips in desperate circles until he can’t remember his own name anymore.

On the third day, Pix and Daisy show up with coffee and pastries, shielding their eyes and yelling for Nick and Harry to make themselves decent. They take the dogs on a walk through the park, and Harry learns that when Pig gets muddy, Nick takes off his jeans and climbs into the tub to bathe her. Harry is so endeared that he makes Nick let Pig out of the bathroom, so Nick can fuck him against the sink.

On the fourth day, Nick has meetings, so Harry stays in and does the tidying up. Nick says he doesn’t have to, but feeling like he’s a part of Nick’s house – even if it just means doing the wash and hoovering up pine needles from the tree – makes Harry feel warm all over. That night Harry fucks Nick from behind, holding onto Nick’s hips and pressing kisses up and down his back, until Nick comes on the freshly washed sheets. They sleep to the side of the wet spot, and Harry promises to wash them again tomorrow. 

On the fifth day, they go to Jack’s holiday dinner party and end up getting properly pissed. By the time they stumble back to Nick’s, they’re too sleepy for anything more than a messy handjob, breathing hot into each other’s mouths, while their hands work between them.

On the sixth day, Harry is alone in the house while Nick works again. Despite five perfect days with Nick, he still feels restless, like there’s something more that he needs. And he’s got a pretty good idea what that something might be – it’s something he can’t get from the other people he sleeps with, something he only trusts Nick with. And that’s how he ends up sitting on the couch, browsing the La Perla website.

He’s not quite sure when he first got the idea that wearing women’s underwear might be something he would like – that just the feeling silk and satin against his skin would turn him on and that just the thought of Nick seeing him all dressed up would make his head go fuzzy.

But he is sure that at first, he’d been worried about telling Nick, who’s only ever dressed in women’s clothes for a laugh on a night out. But Nick hadn’t flinched. He had immediately understood that this was driven by the same desire that made Harry’s breath catch in his throat when Nick called him pretty and made Harry flush when Nick laid him out on the bed just to look at him.

They don’t do it all the time, or even most of the time, but when Harry wants to feel extra special, he has a drawer at Nick’s filled with his nice things. They’re mostly panties because that’s what Harry likes best – feeling the fabric pressing tight against him. But they’ve tried other things – there are a couple lacey bralets, which made Harry feel more silly than sexy, and a few pairs of silk stockings and garters, which were too fiddly and made Harry feel a bit claustrophobic. But lately, he's been interested in camisoles – he likes that he can keep them on during and feel the delicate material moving over his skin, likes when Nick lifts the hem to watch himself fuck into Harry.

So today, Harry settles on a sheer babydoll – thinks he’ll like the way his tattoos show through the fabric – and a matching pair of silk panties. He usually likes to wear soft pinks or whites, but today he’s feeling festive, so he orders the set in red. He considers popping to the shop to pick up the order himself, but every time he’s left the house this week, there’s already been photographers waiting at the end of the driveway. So instead, he takes out his phone and texts one of his assistants.

 

Harry waits until the black box wrapped in gold ribbon is safely in his possession before he starts getting ready, not keen on Allison arriving when he’s still got one leg covered in shaving cream. He’s got about an hour until Nick arrives, judging by his Snapchat of Ian giving a thumbs up next to Finchy sleeping with his face resting against the train’s window – and the follow-up of Ian sleeping on Finchy’s shoulder.

He doesn’t always shave, just when he wants it to be extra special – and today he does. He wants to feel the silk on his smooth, sensitized skin, and he wants to see Nick’s mouth fall open in surprise when he first runs his hands down the backs of Harry’s thighs. 

The shaving process takes a fair amount of time when he does it properly - starts with his calves and his thighs, before moving up to the more delicate bits, and finishing with his armpits. He’s tried waxing before, but he prefers shaving – he likes getting worked up during the process, savoring the smooth glide of the razor over his skin. By the time he’s finished, he’s usually half hard already.

And tonight is no different. He can feel the hard line of his cock against the inside of his thigh as he applies lotion, marveling at how smooth his skin feels under his fingers. While he waits for the lotion to dry, he carefully lays his new clothes out on the bed – and just feeling the cool, soft fabric in his hands is making him feel a bit dizzy. 

He starts by stepping into the knickers, loving the way they feel against his newly smooth skin as he pulls them up his legs and fiddles with the waistband a bit. They never fit quite right, especially when Harry’s hard, but he _loves_ that – feeling the silky material pressed tight against him. Next, he pulls the top over his head, reveling in the way the material moves around his waist as he walks toward the mirror.

As good as his nice things might feel against his skin, seeing himself in them feels even better. The top, which dips just low enough that his sparrows are visible, is covered in delicate lace detailing – which not only looks beautiful, but also feels amazing when it brushes against his nipples. He presses his hands against his hips, where the tips of his laurels poke out from under the panties. And since his torso is so long, the babydoll falls just shy of where the panties end, so when he turns around, he can see the curve of his bum peeking out from the bottom.

 

When he hears Nick call for him through the front door, he feels suddenly nervous. “In here,” he says, turning to face the door. He wishes he’d thought more about how he would pose himself, because now he’s not sure what to do with his hands, so he just settles for holding them behind his back, clasping his fingers together.

He doesn’t look up right away when Nick walks into the room, preferring to look at his feet against the carpet, until he hears a soft “oh” from Nick. When he does look up, Nick is frozen with one foot through the door, Pig running in small circles around his legs. He gently pushes Pig into the hall with his foot and closes the door. “You look,” he pauses, taking a step toward Harry, “Perfect, the prettiest present under the tree.”

Harry feels something come undone in him. He’s not bashful anymore, he just wants Nick to be touching him already – wants Nick’s hands sliding up the backs of his thighs, or sliding up under his top, or pressing him into the mattress. He starts to move toward Nick, but Nick holds out a hand.

“Just want to look at you for a moment, love, can you be good and stay still?”

Harry feels a shiver run down his spine. This is something else they do, something that Harry likes very much, maybe even more than he likes his nice things. “Yeah,” he breathes. 

“Good,” Nick says, moving close enough so that he’s almost touching Harry. He runs one finger down Harry’s jawline and tipping Harry’s chin up, so that Harry is looking at him. “Look at you, so pretty for me.”

Nick closes the space between them, placing his mouth over Harry’s. Harry melts into the touch, leaning in to Nick, but Nick pulls his mouth away quickly. Harry lets out a frustrated whine, but Nick stops him by putting a finger over his lips. “None of that now.”

Nick runs his hands down Harry’s chest and over the front of his top, taking care to brush against Harry’s nipples through the lace, sending a new surge of arousal through Harry’s body. Nick’s hands continue down Harry’s sides and come to rest at the bottom of the cami.

“Let’s have a better look at you, huh?” He lifts the fabric delicately up over Harry’s hips – probably knowing that Harry doesn’t like to get his nice things wrinkled, especially when they’re new – and gets down onto his knees, so his face is level with Harry’s crotch. “Such pretty knickers for my pretty boy.”

He keeps the babydoll hiked up with one hand, and his other hand traces along the edge of the panties – first across the top, fingertips brushing against the smooth patch of skin where Harry’s happy trail usually is, and then down the sides. Harry takes a deep breath, trying his best to be good and not move his hips.

Nick hums in approval, running a knuckle over Harry’s cock through the panties. “Did you get yourself all worked up, baby? You’re already all wet,” he says, circling his knuckle around the wet patch Harry’s leaking cock had left on the fabric.

The only response Harry can manage is a small broken noise, but when Nick looks up to meet his eyes, he looks just as desperate as Harry feels. Like it’s just as difficult for him to only touch Harry with one finger as it is for Harry to only be touched with one finger. 

Nick leans forward to press a kiss to the wet patch, his hands coming up to rest on the backs of Harry’s thighs. Nick drags his mouth across the length of him, and Harry has to clench his hands into fists behind his back so he doesn’t press his hips forward. He loves this, the feeling of Nick’s mouth on him through the silk, the feeling of wanting more but knowing he’s helpless to get it.

Nick pauses, with him mouth still pressed against Harry’s knickers. And suddenly, Harry feels the warm, wetness of Nick’s tongue just barely pressing against his cock. And the feeling only gets warmer and wetter as Nick takes the tip of Harry’s cock into his mouth through the panties.

Harry feels like there’s not enough air in the room, or maybe even the entire world, to fill his lungs. And Nick just keeps suckling on Harry, his tongue moving in small circles around the head. His hands slide up the backs of Harry’s thighs and come to rest on his bum.

“God,” Nick says, pulling off and looking up at Harry with hungry eyes. “Get on the bed, all fours.”

Harry scrambles to oblige, not entirely sure he remembers how to move his limbs. But he manages to make it up onto the bed, settling onto his knees and elbows. He feels more exposed like this, somehow – in the center of the room, without Nick’s hands on him, the fabric of his top bunched up around his chest.

After a moment, he cranes his neck to look behind him for Nick. He’s standing at the side of the bed, undressed except for his pants, and is wearing a stern expression, as if to ask Harry why he’s turned around. Harry quickly settles his head back between his arms.

Harry can feel Nick’s hands kneading his bum, before one hand comes down in a sharp spank just below the line of his panties. Harry knows it’s left a red mark because his arse cheek feels hot. Nick drops a cool kiss onto Harry’s bum, “Think you can be good now?”

Harry nods his head fervently, hoping Nick believes him. Sometimes the only thing he wants in the world is for Nick to spank him - to spank him until his bum goes from red to purple, until he knows he’s Nick’s – but right now he’s desperate to get off, wants Nick on him or in him or whatever he can get really.

Nick keeps pressing kisses to Harry’s bottom, and then moves down his legs, peppering his thighs with kisses. “So soft,” he says, nuzzling his face against the inside of Harry’s thigh, pushing his knees further apart.

Nick pulls away suddenly, and Harry wonders if he’s done something wrong, but soon he feels Nick pulling his knickers down over his bum and dipping one finger between his arse cheeks. “So soft all over,” he says, sounding a little awestruck.

Before Harry knows what’s happening, he feels Nick’s lips brushing against his hole. His head feels fuzzy with how good the small touch feels against his sensitive skin. He’s thankful for Nick’s elbows bracketing his knees and Nick’s hands gripping his thighs, stopping him from falling flat on the bed.

But Harry doesn’t have long to muse about his ability or inability to hold himself up at the moment because Nick’s tongue licks a wet stripe over Harry’s hole, and he feels as if he’s had all the air knocked out of him.

“Oh,” Harry says. Nick’s tongue is moving in small circles now, gradually nudging inside of Harry. “Oh, oh, oh. Please.”

“You’re good, baby,” Nick mutters against him, before pushing his face forward again, his tongue pressing in further while his lips suck around Harry’s rim.

Nick reaches a hand around to stroke Harry through his panties, and Harry lets out a high-pitched whine. The feeling is overwhelming, and despite wanting to be good, he can feel his back arching, pressing his hips back onto Nick’s face. But Nick doesn’t stop, just keeps lapping his tongue inside Harry and jerking him off in time.

He can already feel the pressure building, knows he won’t last long like this, knows that he should tell Nick, but it seems to be taking longer than usual to get the words from his brain to his mouth. “Nick, m’gonna –” Harry says, surprised by how breathless he sounds, “soon.”

Nick pulls off just long enough to say, “Yeah, want you to,” before pushing his tongue back into Harry and sliding his hand under Harry’s knickers to get a better hold on his cock. His voice sounds frantic, and thinking of Nick being desperate to get him off has Harry moving his hips with renewed vigor until he can feel himself clenching around Nick’s tongue and spurting warm and wet over Nick’s hand.

He slumps down so his face and chest are pressed against the bed. His whole body feels heavy and sated, and he’s not sure if he’s even capable of movement, but then Nick is tugging on his curls. When he lifts his head, Nick is kneeling in front of him, offering his hand, covered in Harry’s come, out to Harry. Harry feels himself twitch with arousal, even though he just came harder than he thought possible.

Harry leans forward, tongue out, and starts collecting the come from Nick’s fingertips on his tongue. Nick’s eyes are fixed on Harry, his other hand petting Harry’s hair, “Good.” Harry feels dizzy with all the attention, loves being good for Nick, loves getting dirty for Nick, loves when Nick looks at him like he’s a treasure.

When Harry’s done, he looks up at Nick, tongue still hanging out, waiting. He wants to eat his own come, but what he wants even more is for Nick to tell him to.

“Go ahead, wanna watch you eat it,” Nick says. Harry pulls his tongue back into his mouth and swallows, licking his lips to get anything he might have missed.

“Wanna fuck you, baby, can I?” Nick asks, giving Harry’s hair a tug.

Harry whines and pushes his hips back, suddenly desperate to feel Nick inside of him, even though he’s still sensitive from his orgasm.

“Want you to open yourself up the rest of the way, okay?” Nick says, looking down at Harry.

“Yeah,” Harry breathes, pushing his panties the rest of the way off and getting up on his knees. He must look confused because Nick gets the lube out of the nightstand and slicks Harry’s fingers up for him, before taking his pants off and settling at the top of the bed.

Harry starts to reach behind him, but Nick says, “Why don’t you turn around and let me watch.” His voice isn’t stern or teasing, just soft and helpful. Nick is always gentle when Harry starts to feel a little floaty. Harry looks up to where Nick is leaning back, stroking his dick lazily, and smiles before turning so Nick can see his bum.

With one hand, he holds the fabric of his top up, and with the other, he reaches behind him and pushes one finger. It slides in easily, since he’s already been stretched out, but he still hisses and lifts his hips back up because the sensation is too much.

“Keep going, love,” Nick says from behind him. Harry can tell he’s turned on because his voice sounds low and husky, “You look so fucking pretty.” Harry whines - if there’s one thing he loves, it’s putting on a show for Nick, so he sinks his hips back down again, this time adding a second finger in the hopes that the burn of the stretch will take the edge off.

He can hear the wet sound of Nick jerking himself off behind him, so he slides his fingers in and out in time with Nick’s strokes, occasionally spreading his fingers to stretch himself open. Eventually it starts to feel like too much in a good way, and he can feel himself getting hard again. He slips a third finger in and continues matching Nick’s rhythm, speeding up or slowing down whenever Nick does, always careful not to brush his fingers against his prostate, so he doesn’t come two times before Nick’s even come once.

Soon, he’s pushing back on his fingers and making soft whimpering sounds with each stroke, and he doesn’t want his fingers anymore, he wants to feel Nick pushing into him. He looks over his shoulder, eyes desperate, “Please, m’ready.”

Nick motions for Harry to get in his lap. He crawls up Nick’s body and straddles his lap, loving how rough the hair on Nick’s legs feels against his smooth thighs. And then Nick has one hand under Harry's top, holding his hip, and the other rubbing his cock back and forth across Harry's hole. Harry is looking directly at Nick as he starts to push into Harry, but once he enters, the stretch feels so good that Harry can’t help but tip his head back and close his eyes. Nick’s got both hands on Harry’s hips now, lowering him slowly down onto his cock.

When Harry is firmly seated in Nick’s lap again, Nick pauses, giving Harry a moment to adjust – he feels full, so perfectly full. Harry puts his hands over Nick’s on his hips, so he can feel the soft fabric between them, and starts moving his hips in small circles.

When Nick starts shoving his hips up to meet Harry’s it gets _really_ good. “God, Nick, m’close already,” Harry says, still rolling his hips in frantic circles against Nick. His cock starts to bounce, getting the tiniest bit of friction against the fabric of his top, which pushes him even closer.

“S’okay,” Nick says, rubbing his thumbs in gentle circles on Harry’s hips, “Me too, you just look so lovely, God.”

Nick slides his hands over Harry’s hips and wraps them around the backs of Harry’s thighs, spreading him open more and letting him sink further down onto Nick. He just holds him like that and starts fucking up into him. Harry can hear himself taking ragged breaths and letting out broken off moans, but he feels too good to care. Nick is buried deep inside him and the fabric is rubbing against his cock just enough that he thinks he might be able to come without even getting a hand around himself.

Nick is flushed and sweaty beneath him, putting everything he has into fucking up into Harry. Between pants, Nick says, “God you’re gonna look so pretty when you come, want you to come.”

Harry’s hips move frantically, trying to get more of Nick in his arse and more of the fabric against his cock, and then Harry cries out, a wave of white hot pleasure rolling through his body, and comes all over the inside of his new dress.

He honestly hadn’t even realized that Nick had come too, until Nick is pulling out and helping Harry out of his lap. Harry can feel the wetness - a mixture of come and lube - starting to trickle down the inside of his thigh. The sensation isn't his favorite, but it makes him feel like he belongs to Nick, which more than makes up for any discomfort.

Then, Nick is pressing kisses all over Harry – his cheeks, his shoulders, his hands – and whispering about how good Harry was, how nice he felt and how pretty he looks. Harry only feels the tiniest bit floaty, but Nick’s words still feel like they’re lighting him up from the inside.

 

Once Harry’s cleaned up and curled into Nick’s side, he whispers, “Thank you.” 

Nick gives him a quizzical look, but drops a kiss to the top of his head. “It’s not exactly a burden to look at you in pretty things and then fuck you, yaknow,” he says with a chuckle.

Harry smiles, pressing his face into Nick’s chest. “I know, just thanks for like always taking care of me and stuff.”

“You know I love taking care of you and stuff,” Nick says, pressing another kiss to Harry’s head. “Speaking of which, is this really the last time I’ll see you this year? Cause I was sorta hoping Henry Stars would make an appearance at Christmas.”


End file.
